Henry rolls out of bed to find his wife hunkered beneath their duvet. Her hair shoots in at least a dozen directions from her poorly secured bun. He squats next to the bed next to her, as sun streams through the blinds.
"Happy birthday."
"What a birthday! Half of my office taken out not by terrorists, but by an unrelenting stomach virus."
He grins, "So cake is out?"
She gags, and chucks a pillow at him with the little strength she has left. By the time Henry returns home she has shifted positions into the floor of their bathroom with her blackberry on the counter. He places a bottle of Gatorade into her hand. She is still clad her pajamas. A sweaty white camisole, and a pair of light blue plaid pajama bottoms. He moves towards her to kiss her greasy hair. She gently shoes him away. He furrows his brow.
"I understand that you aren't feeling well…"
She cuts him off with an arched brow, "Please don't. I'm not up for it. Can't a forty-seven year old just wallow on her birthday? Also, I don't want to make you ill."
Several Months Post-Apocalyptic Stomach Virus
It's well past midnight, and Elizabeth, and Nadine are the only two left at the office. The Secretary of State sits behind her large mahogany desk rubbing her temples with her right hand top drawer open staring down a bottle of scotch. The familiar sound of someone clearing their throat garners her attention. She glances up from her desk to find her chief of staff standing opposite her desk. Elizabeth glances at the briefs on her desk, and then makes eye contact with her chief.
"Nadine go home, and get some shut eye. It's…" she glances at her watch, "nearly three am. We aren't going to get any further on this matter tonight."
"I'm not here about the fires we need to put out, ma'am," she responds in an austere tone as she slides into a seat.
"Nadine I would prefer not to put anything else on my plate at this utterly grim hour."
"Ma'am I just got off the phone with your husband."
"So now you're doing his dirty work?" Secretary McCord cocks an eyebrow.
"He is concerned about you. He asked what was so pressing at the office lately. He said you've barely been making it home at all. He feels like you are distant, and he is worried about you."
"How is that any of your concern, Nadine?" Her voice jumps an octave.
"You've been sleeping in your office far more nights than warranted. I am simply echoing his concern. For months you haven't been yourself. I know that you maintain your professionalism, but it is clear to me that something is really eating at you."
"Can we not?"
Nadine purses her lips, "I am running out of excuses. I can't feed the staff, or your husband much more BS. You are going to have to level with me if you want my assistance."
"Are you black mailing me?"
Nadine furrows her brow, "I can only fly in the dark so long. Are you having an existential crisis? A mid-life crisis? Since your birthday you have not been yourself. Your fuse is short. There are all of the alleged trips to a dental complex in which you shrug off your detail. If you have gotten yourself into a mess I can attempt to dig you out, but I have to know what I'm working with."
"It's complicated."
Nadine nods, "That fact is quite lucid to me. It isn't like you to avoid your family. What is the nature of the beast here? Blake certainly has voice his concern about your health…" Nadine shrugs, "I'm honestly at a loss. Ma'am are you ill?"
"Nadine, I'm not prepared to have this conversation with you, or anyone else for that matter."
"Have you been going to therapy? If that is the case I can make that work. I can spin some alternative scheduling blocks. Everyone is suspicious of the dental blocks for a woman who has outwardly impeccable teeth."
"No."
"These clandestine meetings require your husband to be in the dark too? It makes my mind wander to dark places, Madam Secretary."
"I certainly am not engaging in any treasonous behavior, if that is what you are suggesting."
"Shed a little light, ma'am," she begs.
"Facts in evidence become increasingly difficult to obscure, Nadine."
"If the sand is running out now would be the time to come clean."
Elizabeth purses her lips, "Nadine I fear Pandora cannot be returned to its box."
"I would not unleash her if that is your concern."
"I value your loyalty, and discretion. I fear it would change how you advise me, and I am not fully prepared for that."
"How bad can it be?"